


(get a) hold on (to you)

by waxrose



Category: Arashi (Band)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5170244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxrose/pseuds/waxrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are no wrong choices. There are the choices we regret, and the choices we learn to live with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted back on DW back in 2012; I finally dug through my WIP folder and noticed that I had written more for this. Posting this in the hope of motivating myself to finish it!

It takes all his nerves, and Nino won't admit later that his legs were shaking when he handed over the letter.

Johnny's eyes are sharp. "You're sure that you won't regret this?" He sounds annoyed, but it sounds more like a question than a warning. Like he doesn't have an army of juniors to handpick a replacement for Nino from.

Nino bows politely. "I'm very sorry." He is –well, a little. He's sorry that he inconvenienced people, sorry that he's going to have to break it to Aiba that no, they aren't debuting together, and yes, he's kind of regretting that he won't be lying on a beach in Hawaii anytime soon.

On the other hand, this means no more sweaty, hand-me-down costumes. No more swaying gently in the backdrop while puffy-haired seniors croon love songs to deluded teenage girls. No more disguising himself in public – he can smoke a cigarette and only worry about shocking his mom, forget the media.

Nino never wanted any of this. It's not difficult to give it up.

+

Aiba does cry, even though he pretends fiercely that he's not as he slams his way out of the dressing room, keeping his head tucked against his chest, long bangs dripping over his eyes.

It cuts into Nino, seeing Aiba like that – normally, he'd be happy to punch out anyone who did that. He should go after him, but right now, Sho is eyeing him like he wouldn't mind punching Nino around a bit himself.

"Well, that does it," Sho says, "I can't go in and hand in my resignation now – two is just too many."

"Of course you can." It's not like he went in alone on _purpose_ , it's just that Sho had been taking so long to dither between college and Johnny's. It was Nino's career, Nino's life. "It's not a party invitation, it's a job offer. Just turn it down. There's plenty of other people who want it. Give them what they want."

Sho scrunches up his face. "Yeah, and I can already see it – there goes Sakurai Sho, the guy who thought he was too good to debut – won't be able to walk through the halls without– "

"It doesn't matter, does it? You won't be here." This is why Nino didn't wait, why he knows that soon, Sho himself is going to realize that he _can't say no_ \- Sho hates disappointing people, and he can't stand to look bad or give up. He'll go through with this debut out of sheer bloody-mindedness, no matter the consequences.

+

Of course he catches up with Aiba later, on the same train that they always take home together. It's awkward, but it's mid-July and too hot to talk anyways. The humidity makes the air feel thick and hazy, and he can feel sweat beading where his bare leg is pressed to Aiba's.

"Will you come over?" Aiba asks suddenly, when Nino is one stop away from home. 

He can't possibly say no. 

+  
Maybe Nino should have seen it coming, with the way that Aiba was so tense and quiet. Aiba was usually pretty quiet, but in a gentle sort of way, a calm way. Aiba watches him all evening like Nino is going to disappear from right in front of him. He seems to take each step hesitatingly, like there's something he needs to decide.

He must have come to some sort of inner consensus, because when the lights go out after two plates of watermelon and countless games from Mario Kart, Aiba stumbles ungracefully in the dark into Nino's futon.

"-'stay with you?" Aiba asks, voice thick and drowsy as he leans into Nino. Aiba's really not that good of an actor, Nino reflects.

He stays still, unsure what to do with a jumble of trembling Aiba pinning him down. This probably isn't a very good time to apologize. 

Aiba's hand presses on his leg, his fingers shaky as he leans into Nino. Nino lets his breath out in a hiss. The summer quilt isn't that thick, and Aiba knows exactly where his hand is creeping towards. This is such a bad idea.

"Aiba." Nino stands up, upending Aiba from the futon. "Hell – we are _not doing this_."

"Why?" Aiba's voice is angry, not confused, and that takes Nino aback. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

Oh, he will never tell Matsujun _anything_ ever again, no matter how innocent or cute he seems. 

"That's not the point," he says lamely. "We can't – I'm leaving, Masaki."

Aiba laughs, but it sounds almost like a sob. "Not yet."

"I don't want you to regret anything." Johnny's voice echoes in his ears, _you're sure that you won't regret this?_ , and that completely kills any arousal that Aiba's fumbling had caused. 

"Why would I?" Aiba is slumped back against the foot of his bed now. His anger has deflated now, and he just seems sad. If they were younger, like they used to be, Nino would try to cheer him up by licking his nose, or if he was feeling gracious, just resting his head in Aiba's lap so Aiba could stroke his hair. 

He can't believe Aiba is really this crazy.

"I'm not coming back." It has to be said, but the silence that follows is still painful. Nino waits, two, maybe three minutes, and he's almost convinced that Aiba has fallen asleep sitting up until he suddenly stands, sliding back into his own bed without another word.

To Aiba's credit, he cries pretty quietly – but then again, Nino is trying his hardest not to hear.

+

First impressions: California is hot and dry, the sun cracking his lips and making his skin red and itchy, peeling and ripping apart in curling flakes. The food is terrible, and even the sushi looks alien. He can't understand any of his teachers, and by the end of his first week, he's been 'recommended' to a language program at a nearby college to upgrade his English before he can return full-time to his drama studies.

Now that he's here, Nino can't imagine why he thought it would be easy. Obviously, it wouldn't have been a cakewalk, but he didn't anticipate the grinding frustration of every simple chore becoming an insurmountable hurdle. He spends fifteen minutes one morning arguing ineffectively with a lady working at the Laundromat who won't let him put his clothes in the washer, and he's embarrassingly close to either tears or punching her a new drainage hole in the wall.

"Can I help?" someone asks in Japanese, and Nino blinks briefly before he is elbowed aside by the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. She's taller than him, with dark hair stretching down to her waist, and sharp, thoughtful eyes. She looks Japanese, but she's speaking English to the attendant faster than Nino can understand, although he's too busy watching her lips move to catch the words.

The girl turns to him as the attendant walks away. "I'll help you set the cycle – she said that you messed up the load setting last time and nearly broke the washer. And you need to bring your own soap, or pay extra for the stuff they keep at the counter."

"I brought soap last time," Nino says, a little defensively.

She smiles gently. "She said that it was shampoo."

Words are not coming easily to him now, even in his own tongue. "I'm a little illiterate," he manages.

"Oh good," the girl says lightly, "Imagine the insults that I can get away with."

+

Her name is Min. Nino had always thought he would somehow recruit himself someone leggy and blonde to fit the picture of his American Girlfriend, but he doesn't really mind. Min is half-Japanese, half-Korean, and all-American. She's also an absolute angel. She not only helps Nino set his laundry, but also folds it, and then takes him to a surprisingly decent ramen place close to campus. 

In between inhaling two bowls of the most decent food he's had since he stumbled off a plane, Nino comes to realize that this is someone who he would like to get to know very, very well.

+

As it turns out, Johnny chooses not to replace him after all. Arashi debuts as four, and Nino expects himself to feel some kind of lost feeling, some regret as he watches the DVD that his mom mailed to him. Mostly he's just glad that he wasn't there – the motion of the camera rocking up and down with the boat is enough to give him a faint feeling of seasickness even while sitting on the couch.

He does wonder why, though – it isn't that Johnny wouldn't be have been able to find a replacement. There were literally over a hundred boys in the company who were salivating for the security and (if somewhat questionable) glamour of a debut. Maybe Johnny was feeling vindictive, or wanted Nino to feel guilty in some way. Again, this doesn't seem plausible. Depriving the world of another sparkle-pantsed teen idol is something that Nino doesn't mind being responsible for.

Aiba keeps messing up his lines. Nino stops the DVD, stands up from the couch and stretches. Maybe he should buy some groceries – Min was coming over after her business seminar tonight, and he had promised to cook something.

The DVD stays on his shelf, and Nino does eventually finish it – he actually watches it over and over again from time to time, always alone. Something about it feels too private to show to others, a part of his past that he doesn't know how to explain, because the meaning just doesn't translate.

Whatever Johnny's intentions, he left a space for Nino. Nino can't watch the video without somehow imagining a gap where he fits in, and he wonders if anyone else notices that he's missing.

+

Acting class isn't like Nino imagined, really. Maybe the Jimusho set his expectations for something regimented and predictable – maybe it's just because this is America, and people seem crazy in America, even though Min gets angry when he says that.

After a morning spent rolling around in blankets and pretending to be a newborn baby, Nino decides to skip Dramatic Process and eat a proper lunch in his own apartment. It's late autumn and the bike ride home is cool and pleasant. Soon it will be winter – or as close to winter as California can possibly get. It's hard to believe that it's been over a year.

Min is perched on a stool near the kitchen window, eating a melting cheese sandwich and reading a novel that's almost too thick for her to hold in one hand. She looks up when Nino comes in, glasses sliding down her nose a little. "Want a sandwich?"

Nino smiles, and kisses her on the cheek. "I'll make something." 

She hums and goes back to her book. "Package came for you in the mail. I think it's from Japan."

Nino closes the fridge. "From my mom?" No one else has bothered to mail him, although it is the new millennium, and no one seems to acknowledge the postal system anymore. Nino didn't realize how much he liked mail until he moved across the world, and each parcel of snacks, pictures, and manga felt like Christmas morning.

"I guess so – I didn't open it," Min takes another bite of her sandwich, crumbs sticking to her lips. "Hey, speaking of moms – mine keeps asking if I'm going to have my Nice Foreign Boyfriend over for dinner again sometime."

"Your mom is Japanese, why on Earth does she call me a foreigner?"

"Because you keep bowing to people and expect 7-11 to stock onigiri? I'm not sure, Kazu."

The package is smaller than his mom's usual, and Nino glumly resigns himself to not catching up on _One Piece_ before he realizes that the handwriting on the envelope is not his mother's – and neither is the return address.

"Old girlfriend?" Min says teasingly, and Nino realizes that he's been staring at the envelope for a full minute.

"A friend," Nino says, and realizes that he sounds a bit defensive. 

He can't believe he's missed the stupid curlicues and disjointed sticks of Aiba's writing, and see his name is Aiba's hand makes it feel like he can hear Aiba saying it out loud.

He hasn't been forgotten after all.


	2. Chapter 2

_**2002** _

_I've been practicing the sax a lot lately. I think I'm getting better, but Sho-chan says it's annoying. He's been kind of on edge lately. I guess university is tough. Is it tough for you? I don't really know what actors are supposed to study, but…_

The phone rings in the middle of the night, and Nino is bolt upright before his brain can even process what he's hearing. He nearly whacks Min in the nose in his effort to reach the phone on the table next to the bed, but she only groans sleepily and turns over, bare toes warm against Nino's leg.

"Hello?" Nino says. He hears an uncertain noise on the other end, and switches to Japanese on instinct. "Who is this?"

"Nino." Jun's voice sounds a bit deeper than he remembers, but it was unmistakably him. "Did I wake you up?"

He sounds nervous, but Nino isn't really angry – now that he recognizes Jun's voice – god, he hasn't talked to him in nearly _three years_ . 

"Why?" he asks stupidly, brain starting to slowly grind into place.

"It's Aiba," Jun says, and then, more tentatively, "I know he's been writing to you, so I thought you would want to know – "

"Know _what_?" Nino's heart is pounding, he realizes suddenly. He knows what's coming, somehow – why else would Jun call him in the middle of the night after so many years?

"He's in the hospital," Jun's voice is uneven, and Nino thinks for a moment that he can hear other voices in the background. "That's where I am right now. He – he said his lungs hurt, and he just _collapsed_. He's still in surgery."

Min is awake now, peering up anxiously at him. Nino tries to compose his face, but he can’t even get his thoughts straight. 

"We don't know anything else yet," Jun says, and Nino is suddenly, irrationally jealous of him. He was _there_. There were no oceans between him and running to Aiba.  
He can't take it. 

"Okay," he says, once his throat clears, and he can trust his voice. It must not be good enough, because Min frowns, and reaches for his hand. "Can you – let me know? Keep me posted?"

"I'll call back once he's out," Jun promises, and Nino is struck by the realization that Jun isn't the tiny kid that he left behind. 

"What's wrong?" Min murmurs, as he settles back down in bed, turned away from her.

"Nothing big," he lies, unable to face the explanation at the moment. She only has a vague idea of who Aiba is, anyways. He feels like he's holding a glass ball at arm's length, all of his feelings trapped inside. If he even loosens his grasp, he will shatter everywhere – and he can't handle that. 

Not at this distance.

+

**2003**

There are no wrong choices. There are the choices we regret, and the choices we learn to live with. 

Regret means constantly reexamining your choices, picking apart cracks and flaws, and forgetting the whole. You are the sum of your choices, and yes, you could have made different choices – and you can tear yourself apart, and tear apart your life in an attempt to make things as they should have been – or you can learn to live with the choices you have made. 

In retrospect, Nino realized that he had been completely unfair. He had spent the past few months being irritable, selfish, and just generally unpleasant to be around. It had been a relief when Min had finally sat him down on a chair one day, and very calmly explained why she was breaking up with him.

He'd been too much of a coward to do it himself. Because he did love her, in his own way. He didn't deserve her, though. 

She had gone to cry in the bathroom after they talked, he knew. He had heard, but he couldn't stand to go in and comfort her. It was the most horrible thing, and he was disgusted with himself – but he was glad. Not for hurting her – it was just that his own selfish whims were stronger than any other feeling. He couldn't bring himself to care for her with even an ounce of the care she showed for him. It was exhausting.

He felt like a bad person, but all he wanted was to be alone.

Nino doesn't know if he broke her heart, but he hated disappointing her all the same. She had done everything exactly right, and he could only disappoint her in the end.  
Min still comes to watch when he graduates. She brings lunch, even homemade onigiri, and they have a picnic under the dogwood trees at the edge of the campus yard. He is so grateful to her, and so ashamed, but he can't put it into words. She is trying her best to act cheerful and normal, and he thinks that really, she was much better at acting than him.

"Will you go back to Japan?" she asks, spearing a piece of cheese from a plastic container between them with a fork.

"Yeah. Next month, after I get everything wrapped up." Nino had initially had dreams, before he came to America, of getting discovered, working his way up in the film industry in the States. Now that he had spent five years learning exactly what the life of a freshly graduated dramatic arts major was really like – well, he might as well go back to Japan and sell overpriced lattes in a language he's more comfortable with.

She nods, as if she expected this. He knows that she was firmly rooted here, just as he could feel strings tugging him from Japan. Perhaps it had been inevitable, after all. If neither of them were willing to give, then there couldn't have been a future together.

+

**2004**

_We finally finished 24Hour TV!!! Oh my god, I'm so exhausted, I want to sleep for about three days. I read a letter to the rest of the members, and it was really embarrassing. Jun and Ohno both cried a lot. It's our fifth anniversary. Honestly, none of us thought we would last this long. ~~Do you ever think about if~~ I wish you were here sometimes._

Honestly, Nino is surprised he doesn't just slide off the escalator, drop to his knees, and kiss the ground. He is so happy to be back in Japan that even the grey, stoically industrial corridors of Narita look absolutely majestic.

His mom can't stop crying when he wraps her up in a big hug. 

"I'm home," he whispers, his throat closing involuntarily around the words.

+

****2005** **

It had seemed simple: sign up with an agency, show to auditions, get small parts, work his way up to big parts. It's not like Nino was overconfident in his abilities – but he wasn't prepared for a long string of polite rejections, or the silence of non-existent callbacks.

His manager, who also doesn't seem pleased about living on the accumulated royalties of a toilet paper commercial Nino had landed within his first weeks of coming back to Japan, fills him in on unpleasant realities: it isn’t just talent. It isn't just looks. It's about connections and power, and he'd better be ready to kiss ass and go drinking with ADs, cameramen, low-tier actors – anyone who might get him an 'in' somewhere, someday.

Nino is willing. He gives it everything he's got. But there's always someone who gets the jump on him.

He runs into Matsujun on a rainy day in November, right after a particularly depressing audition for the lead part in an upcoming drama. There had been a lot of nods and pleasant smiles, but he'd been through this too many times before. The odds of it going anywhere weren't good. Who was he kidding, anyways? No one cast an unknown for a prime-time Monday night drama.

Matsujun had been halfway into an unmarked black van when he spotted Nino and ran across the parking lot to him.

"I didn't know you were back in Japan," Jun says. "Aiba didn't say anything!"

Nino bites his lip, trying to think of how to avoid saying that he hadn't told anyone. "You here for work?"

"I came for the first read-through with the screenwriters." Jun holds up a script book. "First episode starts filming next week." He avoids Nino's eyes, looking awkward. "They gave me number one. I don't know why they always do that. I asked for it once, and now it just…kind of happens every time."

Nino closes his eyes and wills his stomach to unknot. "You're the lead." It's more of a confirmation for himself than a question for Jun.

"You were –" Jun's eyes widen slightly in realization. He puts the script back in his bag, and his hands hang in thin air, uncertain for a moment, before sliding into his coat pockets. "I hear they do that, sometimes. I think it's to satisfy a legal clause – hold open auditions even when they've already…" he trails off, looking nervous.

"Yeah." Nino says. It's like he's hearing his voice from faraway. "Well – congratulations."

"You deserve it more than me," Jun says, and it surprises Nino to hear real conviction in his voice. It's not just a platitude. "It's not fair."

"It's the industry," Nino clears his throat, slinging his bag up on his shoulder. "It's fine. You – give my best to Aiba, okay? And the other guys. "

"They'd like to see you some time, I'm sure," Jun stuffs his hands in his pockets. "I think about it a lot, you know – if you had stayed with us…" His voice trails off, as he seems to realize he might be treading on indelicate territory.

"Sure, some time," Nino says, non-committedly. It's both kind of sad and strangely reassuring that Jun thinks of the same "maybes" that he does. 

If they can't share the same dream, at least they can have the same regrets.


End file.
